The Beauty Underneath
by Boisterous Hal
Summary: 'Where others have shunned me, you can see the beauty underneath.'  Sylar wants to get his game back.  Can Gabriel and Peter stop the demon within before he kills again?  Multi-chaptered, crack with angst.  May contain traces of other fandoms.
1. Chapter 1

**The Beauty Underneath**

**Summary: ****'Where others have shunned me, you can see the beauty underneath.' Sylar wants to get his game back. Can Gabriel and Peter stop the demon within before he kills again? Multi-chaptered, crack with angst.**

**Pairing/characters: Peter/Sylar (Gabriel), other Heroes characters.**

**Author's note: Part One is mostly crack, as in the cross-dressing Sylar kind of crack, with some serious bits. Part Two focuses on an angsty, internal Sylar versus Gabriel battle culminating in a boss fight, with some humour and a bad romance with Peter. Oh boy, yes.**

**This story is set post Season 4, and is dedicated to petrelli heiress and queenoftheoutlands, who encouraged me to write this.**

**Warnings/spoilers: Split personality Gabriel and Sylar, creepy, cross-dressing Sylar, angst, crack, medium level violence and slash in Part Two.**

**Disclaimer: This fan fic is based on Heroes. Title is a song from Phantom: Loves Never Dies. Cross-dressing Sylar inspired by the fan fics 'Mistakes, Regrets, and Pleasant Surprises' by SarahSupaStar, 'To Boldly Go' by petrelli heiress, and the film 'Just Like a Woman', starring Adrian Pasdar as a transvestite. Yes, really. I don't own any of the above.**

_**Part One**_

She was so beautiful. Sylar stared at the Primatech surveillance footage, enraptured by the young woman's beauty and her deep, dark secret. Soon, she would be his, and he would steal her power.

_Nikita __Longgren, 22. Finnish. Political science student, and national beauty pageant winner. Ability: Persuasion._

That was what the Primatech file said. Persuasion was Eden McCain's ability, but unfortunately he had been unable to study her brain due to its extensive damage. But now he had a new toy to play with.

Gabriel thought he had won, but turning himself towards the good side, but Sylar could not have any of that. He broke down Gabriel's defences, day by day.

Now Sylar was in control, back to creating a perfect world for himself.

He could trap Nikita in a quiet place and let the true face of evil be the last thing she ever saw. But a particularly sadistic side of him wanted to have fun. He would shapeshift into another beauty queen, and get close enough to her to absorb her ability. Then he might kill her just for kicks. _No one would ever see it coming._

In the secrecy of his Den of Supervillain Kickassry, he shapeshifted into a 22 year old woman. Hmm, too blonde. Eyes are too big. He tried many different looks, but finally settled on brunette, brown eyes, a round nose and heart shaped lips. Except for the thinner eyebrows, longer hair and feminine jawline, the new look was the perfect female version of himself. When you were the most handsome man in the world, why mess around too much?

_Azaria Quinto, 22. Paralegal from New York City, aspiring to become a hot-shot lawyer, among the best in the world. Look out._

Sylar always liked the name Azaria, so it was natural choice for his cover. Quinto was taken from the side of a packet of biscuits, being the product's manufacturer. Admiring his female form in the full length mirror, he wondered if he could legally marry his female self. He tipped his head back and laughed at the absurdity. Mother would be so proud! He became sad briefly, thinking about how she died, before he smiled and pouted cutely.

Suddenly, a tiny figure of himself wearing white, complete with a halo and angel wings appeared above his right shoulder. 'Don't do this, Gabriel," Miniature Gabriel said. 'This isn't you. You're one of the good guys. You look pretty, but if that beauty is only skin deep then you haven't found redemption at all.'

A figure appeared above Sylar's right shoulder, dressed all in black and possessing devil's horns. 'Very good, Sylar. Let the Hunger consume you. One more victim. Just one more victim.'

Sylar stood up, and shapeshifted back to his natural appearance. He glared at the mirror images of mini Gabriel and mini Sylar. 'Shoo, both of you. I have work to do.' They both disappeared in puffs of smoke.

Over the next few months, Sylar taught himself to apply makeup and to walk in high heels. It wasn't easy at first but his intuitive aptitude eventually kicked in to make his learning much easier. He tried on many different dresses (as Azaria) at the shops, and the sales assistants always complimented Azaria on her beauty and her 5'11" figure. The plan was coming together.

Azaria won the regional, then the national Miss Harmony beauty contest by a landslide. Excellent. Shortly, Azaria would be off to Los Angeles for the international contest, and there would be Nikita Longgren, all wrapped up nicely for Sylar to claim. Sylar rubbed his hands in nefarious glee, and bought a plot-growing-in-a-pot, only $14.95 from Green Garden. That was a bargain. After shopping, he went back to working on his evil plan to take another ability.

**A cross-dressing Sylar scares me a lot, just so you know. Please review, even if it is just to tell me that I deserve to be locked in a padded cell. LOL.**


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two published 2 October 2010_

**Author's note****/disclaimer: It's October already? Where has the year gone?**

**Er, anyway. I've based the Miss Harmony contest on the Miss Universe (MU) contest (because I like the format the way it is, and yes, the plot for this fic jumped out at me while I watched Miss Universe 2010, of all things). Thank you to Donald Trump and the other co-producers of MU for supporting this important annual event. GET ON WITH IT.**

Sylar was glad to get off the plane at LAX. On the flight from New York to Los Angeles, he could sense the male passengers in first class ogling Azaria's assets. Sylar wanted to change into his natural form and open a can of whoop-ass on them, but the sensible part of his brain convinced him to put up with it. Azaria really should be used to this by now. Sylar had wanted to board the plane by himself, but the name printed on the ticket prevented this.

On the positive side, the seats were comfortable, with lots of leg room, and the food was a culinary delight. At least Ronald Plump, creator of the Miss Harmony contest, knew how to treat a lady.

Back on terra firma, outside the airport, Azaria looked for the coaches that would take her and her fellow contestants to the hotel. Ah, it must be those three coaches with the Miss Harmony logo on their sides, and the tall, beautiful women standing next to them. Then, Sylar saw her. Nikita Longgren, Miss Finland. Beautiful, blonde hair and perfect blue eyes, all his for the taking. Come to think of it, what was it with Scandinavians and beauty? How could every single person in a region populated by more than 20 million people be so hot? Sylar then remembered that Finland wasn't even part of Scandinavia.

Brushing aside these unhelpful thoughts, Azaria approached Nikita and the two women she was chatting with. Nikita smiled warmly and said, 'Hello! Are you one of the contestants?' Azaria smiled. 'Azaria Quinto, Miss USA.'

'Oh, the local girl!' Nikita laughed. She introduced herself. _I know who you are._ Morena Diaz, Miss Mexico and Yulia Ondraskova, Miss Ukraine introduced themselves. The group of women chatted about how excited they were to be in LA, and the amount of shopping they would do.

Sylar studied Nikita carefully. He could already tell that she could light up a room with her bubbly personality. An ability like persuasion was wasted on her. Sylar would rectify that.

More beautiful women arrived, and after a woman with a Miss Harmony logo emblazoned on her shirt ticked off all 88 contestants' names, they were all put on the coaches. The vehicles made their way to the hotel. Azaria sat next to Yulia, who didn't say much, as she wasn't too confident with her English. Azaria didn't mind, since she was taking in all the sights of the city. The women cheered enthusiastically every time they passed a landmark. Sylar did well not to break out in a sweat at all the hotness seated around him.

About 40 minutes later, they had arrived at the hotel. The Presley Hotel, a five-star accommodation popular with celebrities, would be the ladies' pad for the next week. The contestants were asked to collect their room keys, and to meet Ronald Plump in the hotel's huge restaurant in an hour.

'What's your room number?' Nikita asked Azaria.

'Room 5013.'

'Same as me.' Nikita beamed, because she had already taken a liking to Azaria, though Sylar wasn't quite sure why. He supposed she was naturally friendly. _All the better to be closer to you, my prize._

The young women flocked to their room, freshened up and dressed up for dinner. Mr. Plump, contrary to his name, was a tall, lean man, and his hair was just beginning to gray. He stepped up to a microphone on one side of the restaurant and welcomed the ladies to Los Angeles. He also congratulated them on making it this far into the competition. This was met with rapturous applause. _Some make it further than others._

Dinner was delectable, and the conversation was hearty. Azaria and Nikita returned to their room a few hours later, and Nikita was slightly tipsy from the wine. Sylar found this to be the perfect time to take her ability. Azaria put her arm around Nikita, and took her ability through intuitive aptitude.

'Are you okay, sweetie?' Azaria asked, in mock concern.

'I'm fine, thank you,' Nikita said, smiling. 'If it's okay, I will turn in for the night.'

'Of course.'

Nikita turned away, and Sylar considered finishing her off there and then. A major part of him held himself back. He felt curious as to why Nikita was so genuinely friendly when she could force people to do her bidding. She hadn't used her ability once, in this whole trip! Sylar also wanted to enjoy the sight of her smiling at the audience during the competition, the epitome of Finnish beauty, his prize on a pedestal. He was willing to wait for that moment where he could enjoy hearing her screams, as he tore through her beautiful flesh.

Deep inside Sylar's twisted mind, Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief at this slight reprieve. Perhaps in this internal struggle between good and evil, goodness still stood a chance.

**That last part is going to give me nightmares. Seriously, thank you to ZQ and the Heroes writers for creating the creepiest bad guy ever, or I would not be inspired to write about such creepiness. LOL.**

**Sylar in a red hoop skirt is coming up next. Oh, boy, yes. Review, please.**


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three published 8 October 2010_

**A/N: I don't own the lyrics to 'Evacuate the Dancefloor' by Cascada.**

The week leading up to the competition was filled with both fun and serious stuff, but it was mostly fun. Something was happening to Sylar. He was having so much fun, that he forgot that his reason for entering the competition was a nefarious one. Azaria attended numerous parties with the other girls, in swimming pools and out of swimming pools, which was much to Sylar's liking. A few sleazy guys tried to pick up Azaria, but combined death glares from her and the security guards, which said, 'look, but do not touch', put a stop to that.

Sylar felt himself getting closer to Nikita and the other contestants, and not in a creepy, stalkerish way. Azaria learnt much about Nikita's family (her mother worked as an administration manager, her father as finance executive, her brother as a stage actor and the family owned a black-and-white cat named Jesse) and Nikita's aspirations to become a political speechwriter. Sylar found himself admiring the young woman. There was more to her than first met the eye, and Sylar felt like someone had invaded his head overnight, imploring him not to do anything bad to her. He tried to push through this 'barrier', but to no avail. He grudgingly surrendered himself to Gabriel for now, because he remembered how messed up he had become when he was trapped within his own nightmare. He was not going to get trapped by another intruder again. Eventually, he would get his game back, he just knew it.

The serious parts of the week involved visiting centers for the underprivileged, and other community projects funded by the Miss Harmony Organization. Against his will, Sylar found himself feeling bad for these people who were less fortunate than himself. What was happening to him?

One of Azaria's highlights was the filming of the national dress competition. Her costume consisted of a corset style top (which was thankfully looser than a very uncomfortable corset), and a beautiful red hoop skirt. Azaria admired herself in a full length mirror, as did the other girls around her. She looked like a Southern belle who had been featured in an American Civil War re-enactment. She stepped in front of the cameras with confidence, holding a red parasol, and swayed her hips slightly. She said, 'Azaria Quinto, 22, Miss USA!' as her pre-recorded introduction to be shown at the start of the competition broadcast. She needed a lot of coaxing to remove the hoop skirt afterwards, so desperate was she to keep it. Eventually, she used her persuasion ability to convince the organizers to let her keep the skirt, much to her selfish delight.

Midway through the week was the dreaded preliminary competition, which would narrow the finalists to 15 contestants. The 88 ladies answered questions in front of a panel of judges (oh, no!) followed by a catwalk style parade of evening gowns in front of the same panel (yay!). The questions included 'What are your life goals?' and 'Why did you enter the Miss Harmony contest?' Azaria felt that she did well under the circumstances, and it was fortunate that Sylar excelled at playing characters. 'I want to rise up the ranks of the legal profession, hopefully have a family one day, and help those less fortunate than myself' and 'I entered because the Miss Harmony Organization empowers women to be the best that they can be, while also helping them to make a difference in the world', were her answers to the above questions. Azaria loved her asymmetrical plum-colored evening dress with a long train, and the judges saw this in the wide smile that she wore.

Another highlight happened a day before the day of the final competition, which was rehearsing some simple choreography for a dance routine. The track chosen by the organizers was 'Evacuate the Dancefloor' by Cascada, and the dancing would be shown near the beginning of the live broadcast. Azaria picked up the choreography quickly, even though Sylar was more of a head-banger (and head-slicer, though that was another issue entirely). Thank you, intuitive aptitude. Azaria found herself infected by the song's sound, and almost said out loud, 'stop, this beat is killing me!' This was too much fun to be healthy.

That night, Nikita squeezed Azaria's arm gently, smiled and said, 'Tomorrow is the big day. Can you believe it?'

'No, I can't. It's a bit sad that it's coming to an end,' Azaria replied genuinely, but returned the smile. Sylar, Gabriel and Azaria all agreed on one thing: tomorrow would be an interesting day.

**Brownie points for those of you who can guess where the inspiration for Jesse the cat came from.**

**Is it just me, or is Azaria developing her own personality? A three way personality split would just be insane.**

**The idea for the red hoop skirt came from a brilliant magic trick, which is hyperlinked below. I should have given queenoftheoutlands and petrelli heiress the following warning, many apologies ladies: the video reveals the secrets of the trick. Remove the (dot)s and replace them with full stops. www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=E3FGIB57fLk**


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four published on 31 December 2010_

**Author's note: The answer to the previous chapter's question about Jessie the Cat is "Postman Pat". Congratulations, queenoftheoutlands, for owning the first correct answer to be pulled out of the entry barrel. Your prize is the next chapter of this story**** (a few months late, I know, but better late than never...*grins weakly*).**

**There's some mild cursing in this chapter. Just so you know.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Heroes, nor the special guest character from Glee (oh no, Glee has now infiltrated fics from my other fandoms, it's time to run for the hills and so on and so forth).**

Early in the morning, Sylar got out of bed. The digital display of his radio clock read 2:48. He changed into his natural form, and using his night vision ability, changed into black jeans and a black leather jacket. Without disturbing Nikita, he went to her bedside, and used his persuasion ability to convince her not to wake up while he was gone. Then he kissed her gently on the cheek, just because he felt like it. She smiled, and muttered, 'Ooh, shiny'.

Sylar quickly stepped outside onto the eighth floor balcony, and flew off into the night sky. He flew to Venice Beach, landed on the sand and silently watched the waves lapping on the shore. There was no one else around. The mission had gone well so far, apart from the intruder who kept invading his mind. His cover was still intact, and in less than 24 hours, Nikita Longgren, newly crowned Miss Harmony 2010, would be dead.

He smiled and pulled his cell phone out his jeans pocket. Arrogantly, he dialed Peter Petrelli's number. Peter picked up after three rings. It was just after 6:15 A.M. in New York City, and he had just arrived home after a late shift (he had gone back to his job as an EMT after dealing with Samuel Sullivan).

'Gabriel, I've tried to call you, but you haven't been picking up. Are you all right?' Typical Peter, being so concerned about Gabriel.

'I'm fine, thanks for asking, Peter,' Sylar said, deliberately making his voice menacing.

'You sound weird. What's going on? Where are you?'

'That's not important right now. All you need to know is that something terrible is going to happen, and it will be too late for you to stop it.'

'Sylar,' Peter hissed, having caught on. 'I thought I was rid of you. I don't know what game you're playing, but you had better-'

'Goodbye, Peter,' Sylar smirked, and hung up the call. Peter tried to call him, but he rejected the call and switched off the phone.

Sylar walked along the beach, and after a few minutes, encountered a teenage boy, standing on the sand and staring mournfully at the ocean. He was tall, solidly built, dark skinned and with a Mohawk haircut. In the moonlight, Sylar could see that he was quite handsome.

'Hey, dude,' said the boy, in a friendly tone.

'Hey yourself.'

'My name is Noah Puckerman. You can call me Puck.'

'Gabriel Gray. Don't call me Gabe, or else I'll rip your bloody guts out.'

Puck gave Sylar a funny look, wondering what he had done to cause such a violent threat to be to be leveled at him. Sylar kept his face neutral, as if they had been talking about the weather.

'Um, okay, it's nice to meet you Gabriel,' Puck said, after an awkward silence, and held out his hand. Sylar shook it firmly.

'You don't sound like you're from around here,' Sylar commented.

'I'm from Lima, Ohio. I'm on summer break, and dude, coming here was a freakin' terrible idea! I came to LA to pick up chicks, but no one's even interested. I'm a man whore, and I can't even land one! These big city girls are worse than the small city ones. I might as well have stayed in juvie.' There was a pause. 'Sorry, dude. I'm usually not a whiner. You don't sound like you're from around here either.'

'I'm from New York City. I'm here to just take in the sights, my friend.' Sylar had already taken a liking to Puck. He had gathered that Puck had problems with authority, and had loose morals. It was like looking into a mirror, except for the differences in bone structures.

'If you want free action, you can have some right now,' Sylar continued.

'You've got some women back there?'

'No, I meant you and me.' Puck blinked in surprise.

'Oh. I like you, Gabriel, but I usually don't kiss dudes.'

'Well, neither do I. Forget it. It was just a suggestion.'

'No, let's do it. Let's make out.'

'Seriously?'

'Yeah.'

'How old are you, Puck?'

'I'm 17. Is that going to be a problem?'

'Not at all.'

The walked further up the beach, and found a bench to make out on. After ten full minutes of making out, Puck was literally out of breath.

'Holy crap, you're freakin' fantastic. You kiss better than most girls I've been with, and believe me, I've been with many. I'm a stud.'

'You're pretty good yourself,' Sylar responded.

'Do you usually walk along the beach at 4 A.M. picking up strangers?'

'No, only tonight.'

'Well, thanks. You made a shockingly bad trip seem worthwhile after all.'

They exchanged phone numbers, in case they wanted to have another make out session.

'That's dope, dog. See you around.'

'See ya.'

They kissed goodbye. Sylar walked a little bit down the beach before flying off. Puck watched on in disbelief.

'Whoa, trippy,' Puck said, thinking how remarkably similar that was to the space sharks on Doctor Who: A Christmas Carol. He fell asleep on the sand.

Back at the hotel room, Sylar quickly shapeshifted into Azaria. She climbed into bed. Nikita did not wake up.

Azaria and Nikita woke up at 7 A.M. The competition's taping would start in the early afternoon, so the ladies had a few hours of spare time.

'Among all of the blondes I've met, she's one of the prettiest,' said a voice in Azaria's head, speaking about Nikita. Sylar knew straight away who it was - Nathan Petrelli. After a lengthy internal struggle, Nathan succumbed to hypnosis and peacefully dropped off to sleep.

The morning's events were not too interesting. Azaria and a few of the other ladies went out together for some clothes and shoes shopping. Before long, the time had come to get ready for the contest, and the 88 contestants descended on the Kodak Theater.

In the dressing room, Azaria could hear the buzz as the audience members filed into their seats. The ladies shared jokes and wished each other luck as the make up was applied, the dresses were straightened and the hair was combed into place.

The stage manager announced to them they were on in five, and for them to take up their positions. As she lined up near the stage doors, Azaria watched a television screen. It showed the hosts doing their introductions of the judging panel and Ronald Plump, which was met with enthusiastic cheering from the audience.

The sound of "Evacuate the Dancefloor" played, and 88 of the world's most beautiful women flooded the stage, in matching silver sequined dresses. The crowd danced along with the music. Azaria smiled. This was fun.

Azaria made it comfortably through the swimsuit and evening gown rounds, accompanied by wild applause. Excellent, everything was going to plan, and she was in the final five with Nikita, Miss United Kingdom, Miss Venezuela and Miss Australia.

In New York City, Peter Petrelli was flicking through the channels on the idiot box, and settled on the swimsuit competition of the Miss Harmony contest. He did not find the notion of tall, beautiful women parading themselves in swimwear entirely disagreeable. He was, after all, a man with two perfectly functioning eyes.

Miss USA appeared on the screen, and immediately Peter thought she looked familiar. What could it be? Then the reality hit him like a tonne of bricks. He had infiltrated Sylar's Den of Evilness recently, while its master was absent. Peter was intrigued by the make up and mirrors that he found. During the creepy phone call from Sylar early in the morning, Peter could hear the sound of waves in the background, like he was at the beach or something. The Miss Harmony contest was being held in LA, which was right on the Pacific Ocean.

Peter switched off the TV and stood up. He felt numb. 'Son of a bitch,' he said, scrambling out of his apartment and taking off towards the West. Fortunately, he had shaken hands with Edgar, and currently had the ability to move at supersonic speed.

Just as the final five was being announced, Matt Parkman entered the Kodak Theater to start his shift as a security guard. He scanned the crowd carefully for any suspicious characters, and finding none, looked briefly up at the stage, where the final five were standing. There was something oddly familiar about Miss USA.

Matt decided to read her mind. He had no idea why he decided to do this, and thought that he would probably find nothing of importance.

'Soon, she'll be dead. Her power will be mine, all mine,' was the thought that he read. Matt was shocked, because the thought was in a man's voice, and he knew to whom the voice belonged to.

'Son of a bitch,' he muttered under his breath, and quickly approached another security guard. 'I'm going to step out for a bit, Sean,' Matt said, casually. 'Can you cover for me?'

'Sure, Matt,' Sean replied. 'Don't be too long.'

'I won't. Thanks.'

Matt exited through a side door, into one of the theater's many corridors. A plan began to form in his mind.

**Congratulations, we made it to the end of Part One. :-)**

**Please don't ask me to explain why Noah Puckerman made it into this story. The Glee plot bunnies of doom made me do it. I did enjoy writing Puck's dialogue, since gangster speak amuses me.**

**Have a Happy and Prosperous New Year. Please read and review to receive a virtual basket of fruit.**


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